


Best Kept Secret

by Silver Lioness (Rumpels_Darker_Dearie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Femme Domme, Implied Sexual Content, implied BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-18 01:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpels_Darker_Dearie/pseuds/Silver%20Lioness
Summary: Confession Prompt: Character A confesses Character B their feelingsThe Yule Ball - GoF. Somewhat based on a real conversation my brother and I had, a graphic moodboard made by ibuzoo on tumblr. Irma reveals how she has always liked him.





	Best Kept Secret

**Author's Note:**

> **Fancast** :  
> Irma Pince - Michelle Gomez  
> Argus Filch - David Bradley

 

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**Best Kept Secret**

The elegant winter ball soon descended in a cacophony of chaos. The once smooth sweet ballroom waltzes had dissolved into the usual asinine actions that seemed to merge the surging swell of angst ridden, hormone driven, horrendous hordes of thundering teenagers - resembling a flock of headless chickens as they insisted on squirming and twisting their awkwardly angled limbs in their pathetic attempts to dance to the deafening din of what passed as music nowadays. Heads banging to the screech of the guitars. Hundreds of pairs of feet jumping up and down as the staccato or cadence changed. Some were shouting out the lyrics of the songs along with the raggedy unkempt band members thrashing their tunes. Ear piercing screeches of appreciation from fangirls and boys at their deep crushes on their favourite members. At intervals the bodyguards had to literally throw people back into the vociferous throng below.

Watching all this mayhem from the sidelines were the staff members all in various stages of inebriation; whilst most laughed, giggled and gossiped and made guesses on who would end up with whom - there were the odd few who were clearly unamused or bored to death of the ‘celebrations!’ Aurora Sinistra looked as if she was asleep, Severus Snape was nursing the same glass of butterbeer bought from his own private stash, and Argus Filch stood like a living unwrapped Egyptian mummy. The staff were a serried force-field protecting the youngsters from possible misbehaviours. Made all the more intimidating by Rubeus Hagrid and Madame Maxime. If immorality was a physical entity - it would have turned its tail between its legs and scarpered.  

Two figures stood in a semi-private alcove hidden from view of the majority of the dancers and groovers.

“Cheer up you old stick,” Irma giggled as she swayed her hips in time to the Weird Sisters romantic number. “The words are perfectly clear, at least there is no _Language_ \- in their songs.”

“Hurmph,” he grunted. “It ain’t the _Language_ I take particular dislikin’ too, it’s all the _Other_ nasstiness implied with - well…”

“All the nasstiness?” she slurred as she had one too many Punch’s ala Weasley Twins...I.E Spiked with generous helpings of firewhiskey. “I guess then that means ALL the nasstiness,” she winked saucily.

“Yeah, arfter all, these hormonal savages only gets a glimpse of the nastiness their lyrics imply, they do not comprehend quite as much narstiness as I does when I listens to ‘em. They definitely mean all sorts of narstiness that no other kind exists until they reach the mire of sedulous narstiness that words such as: ‘ _Knock me up all times of the night_ …’ Means, s’not romantic at all!”

The librarian side-eyed the caretaker: “Do you?” she asked with curiosity.

“Do I what?”

“Gather what is going on with all sorts of other nasstiness?”

“Oh yeah,” Filch sniffed. “I’ms acquainted with the local denizens of the narstiness.”

“Go on then,” Irma giggled as she took the grimy man’s hand.”Acquaint me with some of this salacious nasstinessess then!”

With that Irma Pince snagged the oblivious man’s hand. It was one of the few secrets the castle kept well. Only one other person knew that she’d had long held a torch for this cat loving squib. Deeply admiring the way he disciplined the unruly thugs that attended this school from afar from day one. From the moment she observed him thwack a student long since grown-up at the back of his head for writing on the paintings and drawing moustaches on some of the paintings of dignified and revered old witches, it took him the best part of the year to restore the ladies to their former imposing selves. That was the good old days. Irma missed the time when corporal punishment was the natural order of things in Hogwarts.

Filch himself was rather dumbstruck as the stern witch clamped her fingers firmly around his wrist - determined to never let him go.

“Are ya suggestin what I thinks you are?”

“Oh yes, Arrrrgus,” her ability to roll her **‘rs’** had always secretly turned him on. “I think we are on the same page.”

Only Mrs Norris watched her human preen at this. ‘ _Finally_ ,’ the cat thought, ‘ _now my human has his mate I can get on with getting to know mine_.’

“At least some people ‘as taste in this old crumbling castle.”

“Good job I am neither old, nor crumbling.”

“Yeah, now where are ya takin me?”

“My office, Mr Filch, is where I will ‘ _have_ ’ you,” her rarely revealed dimples peeked through the cracks and wrinkles on her hardened features, the signal that her smile was genuine. “Now be a good man and let me take the lead.”

_‘Hmm_ ,’ Filch thought, ‘ _I guess the music is a little better now I thinks on it_.’

“So,” he sighed, his heart leapt into his throat and strangely bungee-jumped down to his stomach, was he reading the situation correctly? Did that mean this witch had ‘ _feelings_ ’ for him? He did not wish to presume.  “Er, why are ya doin’ this?”

“Do I ‘ _really_ ’ have to tell you?”

Her dark keen eyes glittered much like a robin’s when it hears a worm wriggling under ground and working out how to pull it up to feast on its writhing succulent flesh. She continued marching through the throng of milling teenagers dancing much like the worm in the beak. Once they were climbing up the stairs students parted like the Red Sea stunned, acting like they had been petrified by the basilisk, at the odd sight of the scary caretaker being dragged up the stairs by the equally terrifying Librarian. Filch felt extremely awkward as hundreds of pairs of young eyes followed the couple as the determined witch pulled him along not caring that he stumbled a few times.

“I do not wish to assume,” he muttered. The moment they reached the library - Irma smartly snapped the doors closed with her wand. The sound of her stiletto’s ringing through the deserted cathedral sized hall of literature did nothing but excite the old man further. “Arfter all, I has me pride and I don’t wish to dent it.”

“Oh, you don’t get to play the coy game, difficult man,” Irma whirled around and she glared down at him - poor posture, bad back and crooked gait had given him his now servile stance - his breath caught in his throat when she elegantly pirouetted on her heel just so her eyes could flash irritation ‘ _and_ ’ indignation. “I’ve ‘ _seen_ ’ the way you look at me. I know how you gaze hopefully towards my direction whenever we have to tidy up the Library together. For ‘ _forty years_ ’ I have been hoping and waiting for you to ask me for a walk in the woods.Or for a drink in the Hogs Head,  you and Aberforth - the barkeep - would get on like a house on fire.”

Jealousy surged through his breast at the thought of Irma flirting with another man. “Why was you flirtin with another man when you had feelins fer me?”

“I knew Aberforth when I was a student and he was already an ancient old codger then,” she stopped outside her office door her bird like gaze centred wholly on the greasy, gruff, unforgiving man before her but she’ll teach him some manners: “Believe me,” she squared her thin shoulders as she pulled Argus up from his stooping submissive frame before he toppled on the floor. With his arthritis and her slowly decaying back that would not have helped but she had plans, plans with the squib she admired for far too long, however they had to get over this one little hurdle first,  “he has lots of ‘ _things’_ to say about how Dumbledore runs this place.”

“Tut-tut, don’t we all,” he gurgled as Irma’s sharp purple painted nails dragged a line down Argus cheek, he was not normally one to blush but right now he was as red as a tomato. “Irma, wha’ is it you like about me?”

Instead of answering him Irma let out a dirty chuckle, accompanied by a saucy wink of her beady eyes. Slowly walking backwards into her office pulling Argus by his shoddy lapels with her. Allowing her passion to take over, Irma whirled them around, kicking her heel against the door now behind her, the old oak door snapped right into place.

“Finally,” she whispered as she pressed her lips against his. “You’re mine!”

“Yeah,” he pressed his lips against hers in reciprocation, “finally. I’m yours!”

If an unfortunate student were to walk past, they would have fainted or scarpered at the inappropriate noises from within, as the couple let their repressed fires burn raging hot as they played out their desire!.


End file.
